


Shotgun Wedding Night

by amythis



Category: Happy Days, Laverne & Shirley (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:02:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21814126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amythis/pseuds/amythis
Summary: What if Lenny hadn't overheard Richie on "Shotgun Wedding: Part 2"?  And what if Fonzie didn't free himself and take the shotgun?  From alternating perspectives of Shirley and Richie.
Relationships: Laverne De Fazio/Arthur Fonzarelli, Richie Cunningham/Shirley Feeney
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	1. Double Wedding

As they exited out of the barn to the wedding march on a fiddle, with white hankies for veils, Shirley Feeney couldn't help asking her smiling best friend, "How can you be so cheerful?"

"Thinking about the honeymoon. You know, I mean Fonzie's real sexy and he's Italian. And just think about it, Shirl. I'll never have to put another dime in a jukebox."

Trying to regain her usual optimism, Shirley said, "Well, Richie is a college man. And he probably keeps his room very tidy."

"What about Carmine?"

"Oh, he'll understand. And I'll explain things to Lori Beth."

"She'll like that."

The girls went over and stood next to their grooms.

"Shirley, if our first baby's a girl, can we name her Lori Beth?"

"Richie, could we possibly talk about this some other time."

Shirley overheard Laverne whisper, "Psst! Are they gonna call me 'Mrs. Fonzie'?"

"Are you kiddin'? They're gonna call you 'the Fonzess.' "

"Royalty!"

"If anyone here knows just cause why these people should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace."

Helga and Inga objected but their father the farmer shushed them.

The minister continued, "Do you, Fonzie and Richie, take Laverne and Shirley to be your lawfully-wedded wives?"

Richie solemnly said, "I do."

Fonzie calmly chimed in, "Me, too."

"And, uh, do you, Laverne and Shirley, take, uh, Richie and Fonzie to be your lawfully-wedded husbands?"

Laverne nodded eagerly and cried, "I do!"

But Shirley was swept up in the moment and she vowed, "To have and to hold from this day forward, in sickness and in health, for richer and poorer, till death do us part...."

"Just say, 'I do!' " Laverne ordered.

"I do, I do, I do."

"By virtue of the authority invested in me by the State of Wisconsin, I now pronounce you man and...."

During the pause, Shirley half expected Carmine or Laverne's father to show up like in a movie, but in a movie that would've happened at the objections part. If she had said something about "a fate worse than death," maybe Lenny and Squiggy would've shown up and said hello. But no one arrived in the nick of time, and she wasn't sure she wanted to be saved, even if the four of them were being threatened into this.

The minister coughed and said, "Sorry, I mean men and wives."

It sounded like polygamy, but it was simply that Shirley was now Mrs. Richie Cunningham, and Laverne was the Fonzess.

"You may now kiss the brides."

"Kiss the bride's what?" Laverne cracked.

Shirley rolled her eyes. She loved Laverne like a sister but the girl couldn't be ladylike even at her own wedding.

Not that Fonzie seemed to mind. He smiled and gave Laverne a big kiss on the mouth. It wasn't their first kiss, or even their first kiss that Shirley had seen that day. The girls had run into the guys a couple hours earlier while looking for campsites and got to use their candy-striper experience because Fonzie and Richie had been injured while, and this was the part Shirley still didn't fully understand, wearing a cow suit and fleeing a bull. Shirley mostly helped Fonzie with his sprained ankle and got an ice pack for Richie's bee-stung heinie, but Laverne kissed Fonzie and climbed onto Richie, who was lying face down on a table, to apply body heat to his bottom.

Fonzie wasn't limping now, although he was hampered a little by the farmer having bound his hands. Laverne had no such restrictions, and she was running her hands through Fonzie's dark hair. Fonzie normally hated to have his hair mussed, but he wasn't complaining.

Shirley heard Richie clear his throat and she looked at him. "Sorry, I got distracted," she murmured.

He nodded and she could read his face enough to know he was silently telling her, _Let's make this look good, maybe not Fonzie & Laverne level good, but good enough to fool the farmer._ She nodded back and then puckered up. His hands were bound, too, but he leaned forward and kissed her sweetly on the lips. They had kissed before, since they'd been on a couple dates, although not recently. She'd always thought of him as a nice, clean-cut boy, cute but a little young for her. But he was a good kisser, both gentle and eager.

Their kiss wasn't long, in fact she could still hear Laverne and Fonzie's wet kiss continuing, but it felt like the perfect wedding kiss, even though this was far from Shirley's dream wedding. She opened her eyes and smiled up at Richie, who had a stunned look on his face, whether from the kiss or the marriage ceremony she wasn't sure.

"And now ve eat!" the farmer declared.

"My mom is going to kill me!" Richie groaned.

"For getting married?" She had the feeling that the Cunninghams wouldn't approve of her as a daughter-in-law, especially when they were probably hoping for a middle-class college girl like Lori Beth.

"That and missing dinner. My dad was going to catch some fish for my mom to fry up."

She leaned forward again, this time to whisper in his ear. "We'll sit politely and clear our plates and then we'll thank the farmer for his hospitality and leave."

"How can I clear my plate with my hands tied?"

"Oh, I'm sure he'll untie you and Fonzie now that we're all married."

The farmer did not untie the guys but instead shooed them into the dining room still bound. The brides had to feed their grooms, which might've been romantic under other circumstances, but now it was just messy and pathetic. Still, Richie and Shirley smiled obediently for Laverne, who was taking as many pictures as she could, to memorialize this bizarre weekend.

"I'm sorry, Richie," Shirley said as she accidentally got kalix löjrom (fish eggs) from the Skagen toast on his shirt collar.

"That's OK, my mom will do my laundry when we get back to Milwaukee."

She glanced over at the farmer, who had his shotgun propped against the table. "Um, Richie."

"Or, uh, I guess that's one of your wifely duties now."

She bit her lip and nodded, then carefully poured water into his mouth. She didn't trust whatever the alcohol was, although Laverne wasn't that hesitant, for herself or Fonzie.

When Fonzie got to his feet at the end of the meal, he was a little wobbly, although that might've been due to his ankle flaring up. "Well, thank you for the lovely wedding and all, but we should be heading back to Milwaukee."

"You're not going anyvere tonight," the farmer said.

"We're not?" Richie gasped.

"No, of course not. I'm your host and tradition says that you must spend your vedding night under my roof."

Laverne gulped, although she may've just been swallowing what Helga insisted was "vite vine." "What a lovely tradition."

"Uh, are you going to untie our hands at some point?" Richie asked.

"Yes, ven you leave in the morning."

"Um, great, thank you."

Fonzie leaned over and whispered something to Laverne that made her blush and giggle.

Shirley asked the farmer, "Uh, Sir, do you have a ladies' room where we could freshen up?"

"Inga, show the brides to the guest outhouse."

"Ya, Papa," his blonde daughter said sulkily as she stood up. Shirley nudged Laverne, who reluctantly followed her out into the still sunny summer evening. Shirley wished all this wedding nonsense hadn't happened, because she would otherwise have loved to visit a farm and see all the cute baby animals. As it was, she couldn't help cooing as they passed piglets in a pen.

"Shirl," Laverne protested, "I don't gotta go, and I doubt the outhouse has a mirror or even a sink. Not to mention I left all my makeup back in Milwaukee because I didn't expect to run into any cute guys." 

Shirley was about to observe that Laverne had mounted one cute guy and married another here in the middle of nowhere, when Inga offered, "Do you vant some of my and Helga's secret stash of face paint that ve hide from Papa?"

"That's sweet of you, Dear," Shirley said maternally, "but maybe just a comb. We got a little mussed from the square dance and these lovely veils."

"I'll go ask Axel the comb-player for his."

As the blonde girl dashed off, Laverne whined quietly, "Shirl, I don't wanna use a comb that some hick has put his lips on."

"He uses tissue paper in between his lips and the comb, but that's not important right now. While we have this moment alone, we need to figure out what we're going to do."

"I don't know about you, but I'm going to go back in the farmhouse and officially become the Fonzess."

"Laverne, this is a big step. I just want to make sure this is what you really want."

"Shirl, thanks to you, I've been saving myself since high school and now that I'm finally getting a wedding night, and with a guy like the Fonz, I'm not passing it up."

"There's more to marriage than the wedding night."

"Yeah, I know. Fonzie's got a good job and my dad will like that he's Italian."

"Do you love him?"

"Of course I love my father."

"Are you in love with Fonzie?"

"Well, no, but I love him and that can come in time."

"You know I hate to bring up Sal Malina, but...."

"You love to bring up Sal Malina, Shirl. But this isn't the same thing. Sal and I only went out for a couple months and we weren't as good friends as me and Fonzie. And you and Dear Abby always say that friendship is the best basis for a relationship."

"Yes, but...."

They couldn't discuss it further, since Inga returned with a not-too-spittle-covered comb. The Swedish girl insisted on going into the outhouse with them to help groom them for their grooms, and then she pinned the handkerchief veils back on, disarranging their hair. Shirley supposed it didn't matter, but she would've liked to have looked nice for Richie, who was probably as ambivalent about this wedding night as she was.


	2. Honeymoon Suite

As Richie watched Shirley and Laverne follow Inga out, he couldn't help thinking he wouldn't be in this mess if he'd just told Fonzie he had to stay true to Lori Beth and not fool around with other girls. It wasn't like he hadn't known that Vernon Boompergaard liked to shoot at men who fooled around with his two lovely daughters. But he let the Fonz and his own hormones make him throw caution to the wind. And then when Fonzie claimed to be engaged to Laverne, it felt right for Richie to pretend to be planning to marry Shirley. How was he supposed to know the farmer didn't care who the shotgun wedding he had planned was for?

Richie had kept expecting someone to interrupt the ceremony, but he supposed that that sort of thing only happened in the movies. And now here he was married to Shirley Feeney.

He knew he could've ended up with a much worse bride. Shirley was usually very sweet, except for when she accidentally punched him on their first date and deliberately tricked him about a dance contest on their second date, and she had apologized about both. She was very pretty, and sexy in a subtler way than Laverne. And she had saved him from marriage to a stranger.

Still, here he was married when he was too young to vote. A college junior who still lived at home. Could he move a wife into his boyhood bedroom? What if Shirley got pregnant? (OK, he now admitted to himself that it might be a little weird to name his daughter by another woman after Lori Beth.) He'd probably have to drop out, get a full-time job, and move into an apartment with Shirley and the baby. Maybe they could live at the girls' place on Knapp Street, unless Laverne and Fonzie wanted it.

He looked over at the Fonz, who seemed quite content to have Helga feed him a slice of wedding cake. (Richie had the feeling that the Boompergaard sisters had had this supper prepared ahead of time, just in case their father ever caught one of their suitors.) Fonzie had kept his cool all through the wedding ceremony. True, the Fonz wasn't giving up a great steady girlfriend like Lori Beth, but he would have to sacrifice all the volumes of his little black books. Richie believed that Fonzie would be faithful to Laverne but it would be an adjustment, for everyone.

Since Fonzie and Laverne were both Italian, Richie imagined that they would have a big family. Fonzie would definitely have to move out from over the Cunningham garage. Richie couldn't even begin to imagine how his mom would react to both marriages, other than a lot of tears. Richie was not looking forward to telling everyone the next morning.

As for that night, part of him was looking forward to it of course. A night with the mature, experienced woman who had once promised him to do "anything but murder, Mister" would be even better than fully clothed "body heat" from Laverne. And even if Shirley was maybe not as experienced as she sometimes acted, she was a great kisser and she'd probably be a lot of fun in bed. Best of all, they were married, so no one could judge them for fooling around. If it weren't for a certain girl named Lori Beth Allen, he could enjoy himself with a clear conscience.

Mr. Boompergaard suddenly ordered, "Helga, show the boys up to the guest rooms."

"Ya, Papa," Helga said sulkily. She got up from the table and waved for Fonzie and Richie to follow her. As soon as she was out of the dining room and heading up the stairs, her walk turned sexy, and Richie couldn't help thinking of the wild dance she'd performed to the radio, a dance that made Richie realize that the brunette sister was more Fonzie's speed.

Richie tried not to ogle the bottom undulating in shorts but when he looked away, he saw that the Fonz seemed hypnotized.

"Fonzie," Richie reminded him, "you're married now."

"Yeah, but I'm not blind, Cunningham."

He had a point, so Richie let himself ogle a little, although it already wasn't easy climbing stairs with his hands bound.

When they got to the second floor, Richie expected Helga to leave them, maybe after giving Fonzie a congratulatory kiss. But she planted herself at the head of the stairs, like a guard. Richie glanced out the hallway window and saw Helga's father patrolling the yard with his shotgun.

Fonzie asked, "Helga, do you mind if I give my buddy a little brotherly talk in the bedroom?"

"Oh! I see." Helga came closer to Richie. "It vill be your first time?"

Richie bluffed, "What, are you kidding?"

"Yeah, he and Shirley are both virgins."

Helga stepped even closer to Richie and played with his hair. "Vould you like me to show you a few tings?"

"That's very, uh, generous of you, but I'll figure it out." If he were going to cheat on his girlfriend any further, he felt like it should be with his wife.

"Yeah, he's a quick study. I just need to explain in private a few things before our wives get here."

Helga hesitated, but Fonzie could be very persuasive with women, even without touching them. She went over to the nearest door and opened it. Fonzie went in and Richie followed. Helga shut the door behind them.

Fonzie gestured with his head that they should talk over by the window, which was as far as they could get from the door. So Richie followed Fonzie over there and could see through the gingham curtains that Mr. Boompergaard was now patrolling that side of the house.

Richie whispered, "We're trapped!"

"Yeah, until morning," Fonzie calmly whispered back. "But we should go back to Milwaukee free men if my plan works out."

Richie felt a rush of relief. Even though Fonzie's last plan had started with a cow suit and ended with a shotgun wedding, it was good to know his best friend had a Plan B. "What's the plan, Fonzie?"

"Simple, Cunningham. We'll get it annulled."

Richie blinked. It hadn't occurred to him that he didn't have to go through with this marriage. "Annulled?"

"Yeah, as long as no one consummates, then we're not really married in the eyes of God or the law."

"Oh. OK."

"Luckily, I'm pretty sure Shirley is still a virgin, so if you have to take her to a doctor to prove that part, no problem."

"Oh." That sounded sort of humiliating for Shirley, but maybe she'd agree to it to preserve her reputation and to get out of the marriage. She had sounded quite sincere when she said her wedding vows, but maybe, like him, she figured that they were committed to this marriage and, unlike him, she was trying to embrace it. She might not have minded being married to Richie, but if she had a choice, she'd likely rather go steady with Carmine Ragusa. "What about Laverne?"

"Well, she was technically still a virgin the last time I went out with her, but it's been a couple years, so I wouldn't swear to it. I guess I'll find out tonight."

Fonzie didn't sound particularly worried, one way or the other. Richie was about to ask more about this, when Laverne opened the door and said, "OK, Red, clear out. Shirley's waiting for you next door."

By the time Richie made it to the doorway, Laverne was soul-kissing Fonzie. Richie saw Helga looking longingly back at them, jealousy all over her pretty face. He felt sorry for her, even though he was sure another traveling salesman or other male visitor would pass through the farm in the next few days.

Inga shook her head and closed the door to that first guest bedroom once Richie was back in the hallway. She pointed at the open door a little further down and then closed that behind Richie once he was inside the second guest bedroom.

Shirley was sitting at the foot of a bed much like the one in the other room, with four posters and a quilt. She was completely dressed except for her shoes. He sat next to her and wondered how to lead up to Fonzie's plan. What if she actually wanted to stay married to him? Should he honor that commitment, even if he'd made it under duress?

She reached for his hands and he thought it was sweet that she wanted to hold hands right then, maybe out of affection, or maybe for reassurance. But then she started undoing the knots that Mr. Boompergaard had made.

"You're good at that," he whispered.

"I was in the Brownies," she whispered back.

"Thanks," he said when she was done, and he rubbed his wrists to get the circulation back.

"You're welcome," she said, tying the rope loosely to a bedpost. "But I'll have to tie you up again in the morning before we leave, so the farmer doesn't get suspicious."

He nodded and was glad that at least he would be free that night. Then he remembered Fonzie's plan. "Listen, Shirley, I think you're wonderful to have done all this for me, getting me out of a jam and everything, but we're not in love and it's not right that we got married, especially like that."

She sighed and admitted, "It wasn't my dream wedding, but I promise I'll be a good wife to you, Richie. I'll be faithful and devoted, and I'll help you keep your room tidy."

"That's real sweet, but, well." He dropped his voice even lower. "What if we got it annulled?"

"Oh. You don't want to be married to me?" She looked a little hurt.

"Well, you're a great girl and, you know, if I'd never met Lori Beth, I might feel different about this but...."

She nodded. "Yeah, I understand. OK. We'll spend the night together but not do anything."

"Right." He looked around and saw a cane chair next to the wall that divided them from the first guest bedroom. He doubted it was very comfortable, but he had the feeling he wouldn't get much sleep that night anyway.

"Oh, Richie, I'm so sorry."

"It's fine," he said as he sat down. "But I will have to come to bed by sunrise, in case the Boompergaards do an early bed check."

She nodded, sighed, and got under the covers.

He told himself that this would all be over soon. He just had to make it through this strange wedding night. When they got back to Milwaukee, they'd figure out how to go about getting an annulment. Maybe he wouldn't even have to tell his parents about this, although he would have to come up with some excuse for being out all night during a family camping trip.

He rested his head against the wall and soon became aware of noises coming from the next room. At first it sounded like kissing but then the makeout got more intense. Richie couldn't distinguish any words until Laverne giggled and said, "You're right, Fonzie, you don't need your hands.

Richie felt like he shouldn't be listening. Not only was it an invasion of privacy, but it was starting to excite him. Also, he couldn't help wondering how the Fonzarellis were going to keep from consummating, unless the Fonz had convinced the Fonzess to settle for a makeout.

Richie hoped that Shirley could sleep through this, but when he looked over at the bed, she was sitting up and gesturing for him to come over. Was she a little excited, too? It might be tough for them to avoid consummation as well.

Still, he went back to her, took off his shoes, and pulled back the covers. He got in and was about to take her in his arms when she leaned over and whispered, "You know what they're doing, don't you?"

He could feel himself blushing. "Um, well, yeah." He didn't know where precisely the other couple was in the makeout, but he had the general idea.

"She's obviously faking it."

"I wouldn't think a woman would have to fake it with the Fonz."

"No, I mean they're putting on a show."

"For us?"

"No, no, for the sisters, and anyone else who might be listening."

That made sense. If Fonzie wanted to convince Helga and her family that he was definitely taken, he would have to make it sound like he was taking Laverne. There was probably some genuine makeout mixed in there for verisimilitude, but the Fonzarellis probably weren't going to go as far as it sounded.

It was still enough to excite Richie, and when the Fonz started grunting and Laverne began to moan, Richie felt like he needed a cold shower. Lying next to a very pretty girl wasn't helping. He thought about going back to the chair but he'd be able to hear better than he could from the bed. "I think I'll go look out the window and see if Mr. Boompergaard is still patrolling the yard." He doubted they could escape with their guards a captive audience, but it was an excuse to evade his too attractive bride.

Unfortunately, she took his hand and whispered in his ear, "We'll need to go next, when they're done."


	3. Marital Bed

One thing about being best friends, especially best friends who sometimes double-dated, was that occasionally you heard or even saw each other make out. Shirley had surely witnessed enough of Laverne's makeouts, and she was certain it was the same for Richie with Fonzie, although probably not on the level of the inseparable Lenny and Squiggy. So Shirley knew that at least some of Laverne's noises were authentic. But when the bed next door started squeaking and Laverne started crying Fonzie's name, while Fonzie gasped, "So good, Laverne!", Shirley did have to wonder how much of it was an act.

She felt a mix of embarrassment, arousal, and nervousness. After years of trying to get Laverne to behave, the girl was now shamelessly acting like she was losing her virginity. And it was pretty darn sexy. Shirley knew she shouldn't listen, but it wasn't like she had a choice. And she wasn't sure she'd stop listening if she could. Besides the titillation, she needed a role model for her own fake defloration.

She squeezed Richie's sweaty hand. The poor boy was probably as nervous as she was. He was a virgin on their last date, and even though that was three years ago, she had the feeling that he still was one. Lori Beth was a nice girl, like Shirley, and they probably hadn't done more than neck. And from what Shirley could tell, Richie hadn't done more than kiss Inga, which was still enough for the farmer to reach for his shotgun.

She knew there was no point in starting to fake voe-dee-oh-doe, not when they'd have trouble being heard above the other couple, especially Laverne. Shirley had no intention of being that loud. She was much more demure and anyway she thought it'd be more believable if she didn't scream. Richie wasn't as skilled and he definitely wasn't as experienced a lover as Fonzie, so multiple fake climaxes would be less plausible coming from her than she assumed the ones Laverne was now producing were.

The squeaks of the other bed got even louder and faster. The moans and groans of the Fonzarellis did as well. And then suddenly there was silence.

"Um," Richie commented.

"We don't have to do all that," she whispered.

"OK."

"How much are you comfortable doing for real?"

"Wh— what do you mean?"

"Well, Carmine is fine with me kissing other men, and I assume Lori Beth feels the same about you kissing other girls."

"Um, yeah, we can kiss."

"What about necking?"

He pulled his hand away. "Look, I really appreciate what you're suggesting, but maybe it's better if we don't touch each other."

She tried not to pout. "You're not attracted to me?"

"Don't be ridiculous! You're very attractive."

"You don't have to say that just because it's our wedding night."

"I mean it." He stroked her face. "You've got these cute dimples and pink cheeks." She felt herself blushing. "And your big blue eyes that show your intelligence and warmth." He didn't stroke those. "And your soft lips with the sweet smile." He lightly caressed her lips. "And you have that cute dark bob with red highlights." His other hand played with her hair. "It's just like—" He backed away as if he'd been electrically shocked.

"Richie, what's wrong?"

He shook his head. "I just suddenly realized that you remind me of Lori Beth."

"Oh." She wasn't sure how to feel about that. "Isn't she taller?"

"Well, yeah, but you're the same type, and I didn't even know I had a type."

"Oh." She wasn't sure if that made him feel like he would be using her and pretending she was Lori Beth, or if he was just surprised to find that he kept being attracted to her type of woman.

"And I'm already, um, stimulated by this situation."

"Oh." Blushing again, she admitted, "So am I."

"Yeah?" His grin lit up his whole open face. He would never have the cool of his best friend but she found herself drawn to his freckled, wholesome vulnerability. He was such a nice boy, a man now she supposed, although she still referred to Lenny and Squiggy as boys and they were three years older than Richie.

Then he leaned in and kissed her on the lips. She kissed back and tried not to worry about if they were being or were going to be unfaithful to their sweeties. She also didn't want to worry about whether she was loud enough to be heard in the hallway. She'd let this play out a little and see what happened, although Laverne was usually the spontaneous one.

She stroked his hair, which was as always smooth and neat. He was so well-groomed, which was on her mental list for what she looked for in a man. Still, she liked mussing his hair now, ruffling his smoothness.

"Shirley," he breathed when the kiss stopped.

She rested her head on his shoulder, an action she had performed on both their first two dates, and one she had done when they announced their engagement that afternoon. There was something about him that made her want to cozy up to him, his combination of openness and cuteness.

He stroked her hair and said, "We can't go all the way."

"No, of course not. I'm not that kind of a girl."

Then they both laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation.

After biting her lip, she said, "We can do stuff. Not voe-dee-oh-doe but other stuff."

"Anything but murder, huh?"

She blushed and giggled, remembering her offer of three years ago. "Well, not quite to that extent."

Then they kissed again, a slower, deeper kiss this time. She tried not to think about Carmine or Lori Beth, or the crazy farm family holding them prisoner, or even about their best friends, who were presumably lying in post-false-coital bliss next door.

Then they drifted into necking, and she started it. His hair was still short enough, shorter than Fonzie's, that his neck was exposed. It turned out to be very vulnerable to her nuzzles and kisses. She wouldn't give him a hickey since that wasn't really her style, and she didn't want to explain that in her talk with Lori Beth.

"Mmm, Shirley, that feels nice."

"Thank you," she said into his ear and then kissed that awhile.

Then he moved his head so that he was kissing her neck, lightly at first, as if not sure this was OK with her or would be OK with Lori Beth. She was touched by his consideration, and aroused by his teasing, even if that wasn't intentional.

"Do you like that?" he whisper-kissed in her ear.

"Yes!" she gasped.

And then they started necking passionately. Her hanky-veil was still clinging to her hair when they started, but his caresses and her thrashing soon worked it loose. Their lips and hands were all over each other, from the shoulders up, like they were tired of holding back, tired of being a good boy and a good girl. And it was technically their wedding night, so second base wasn't much to ask, was it?

Even when he started easing down the shoulders of her pink ruffled blouse, she didn't stop him.

"You have great shoulders," he said.

"Thank you," she replied, although it was sort of an odd compliment. She'd always envied Laverne's strong, broad shoulders, but Laverne had told her that Shirley's were more feminine and elegant, "like Audrey Hepburn's." Shirley did know how to work what she had, and she had perfected the Shirley Shimmy. She rested her head on Richie's shoulder again and said, "I like yours, too."

"Thank you," he said, caressing her shoulders, which were now bare except for her bra straps. Then he eased down one of the straps and asked, "Is this OK?"

"Mm hm." She reminded herself that he wasn't technically undressing her, although she still bit her lip when he peeled her blouse further down.

She could feel his eyes on her far from ample cleavage and was surprised when he asked, "Can I touch you below the shoulders?"

She hesitated, because she'd never allowed even Carmine such liberties. But she was enjoying his touch on her bare skin and she wanted more. "Yes, but let's agree right now we won't go below the waist."

"Of course," he said, as if he wouldn't dream of asking such a thing, either because he was a nice boy or because she was a nice girl. Or maybe he felt like that would be too much to ask Lori Beth and Carmine to forgive.

He stroked along the edges of her blouse and bra, his hands sweaty again, although she didn't mind. His touch was gentle but eager, and she had the feeling he'd rarely if ever touched a woman's chest before.

"So soft," he said, still whispering, as if this moment belonged to only them and he didn't want to share it with an audience.

"Thank you, mmm, Richie."

His hands were inside her bra now, teasing her hard nipples and squeezing her perky breasts.

She moved her head off his shoulder and started French kissing him again, darting her tongue into and around his mouth until he caught it and sucked it. He unhooked her bra, and her chest was soon completely exposed.

He stopped kissing to ask, "Can I see them?"

She didn't get past, "Yes, but they're not very...," before he moved his head down to her chest.

"They're beautiful!" he gasped and then gave each nipple a butterfly kiss of approval.

"Thank you," she said softly, stroking his hair. Then she further mussed his hair as he kissed all over her chest. She couldn't help sighing his name.

Although his mouth was increasingly busy, especially as he began to suck and lick, he still took time to say things like "sweet Shirley" and "so sensitive."

She wanted to stay quiet, to not provide entertainment for the audience in the hall, or for that matter next door. (It was still light out and Shirley doubted Laverne and Fonzie were asleep yet. And every once in a while, Shirley thought she could hear murmurs from the next room.) But the better Richie made her feel, the more she wanted to express it. So, although she didn't get as loud as Laverne, her sighs, moans, and fractured sentences must've been audible outside the room.

Richie definitely heard her, and his hazely blue eyes looked up at her in wonder. And then she felt the right hand that been cupping her left breast, and in a way her heart, move under the blankets to push up her skirt. Part of her wanted him to keep going, but they'd agreed on the border.

"Richie," she said, her voice as gentle as the hand on his wrist.

"Sorry," he mouthed and then scooted back up so that his head fell on the pillow.

She put her head on his shoulder again and whispered, "Are you OK?"

"I just," his voice got very faint, "I really need a cold shower."

She wished she could do something to help him, but she didn't know how to unexcite him, and she'd just reminded him they weren't supposed to touch below the waist. And then she remembered that they were supposed to convince their captors that they were having a wedding night.

"Richie, you can say no if you want, but could you touch yourself and make it sound like you're, um, you know with me?"

She felt his body stiffen next to hers. "Are you serious?"

"No, never mind. We don't need to prove anything to anybody." It wasn't as if the farmer would make them stay until they consummated, right?

"No, I mean, well, I'd feel shy playing with myself in front of you."

"Well, I am your wife," she half joked.

He didn't laugh but instead asked, "Can I borrow your veil?"

She found it in the tangled blankets and handed it to him, although she wasn't quite sure why.

"Thanks," he said and then put his hands under the covers again, but this time she heard him undoing his belt.

"How are your bee stings?"

"To be honest, they haven't really bothered me since Laverne applied body heat."

"I'll be sure to tell her that," Shirley said tartly, making him chuckle.

Then she heard him unzip his jeans and lower his underwear. "I need to roll over onto my stomach."

She scooted away enough to give him room for that. She wasn't really sure what she should be doing during this, for his sake or for the sake of their pretend marriage. She was very aware of the unique intimacy of this situation, whether or not they touched each other further.

Then he began thrusting against the bed and he moaned, "Oh, Shirley!"

She recognized her cue and said audibly but not loudly, "Yes, Richie, right there!"

"So pretty! Mmm!"

"Sweet Richie! Oh!"

"Wow, I'm inside you!"

"So big!"

He paused to smile down at her in amusement and gratitude. She gestured that he needed to reply, so he asked with well-faked sincerity, "Am I hurting you?"

"Can you go slower? It's my first time."

"I'll try, but it's mine, too."

He lay so that he could kiss her lips as he thrust more gently against the bed. As she opened her mouth for him and his tongue thrust in, she imagined opening her legs so he could fill her. She was sure he was imagining it, too.

After awhile, he stopped kissing her so that he could focus on making imaginary love to her. Sometimes he'd close his eyes as if to concentrate better and other times he'd look intently into her eyes as if he was seeing through her. They didn't speak much now.

A few minutes later, he kissed her neck and then scooted down the bed until he could lick her nipples as he humped the bed. Her good-girl sensibilities told her this was too much, but her inner Roxy LaTour made her croon, "Yes, Baby, feels goooood."

She didn't have trouble making sounds of pleasure, while he gasped and groaned but didn't say any more words until he soon after reached climax. She was startled when he cried, "I love you, Shirley!", but she remembered that as far as the farmgirls were concerned, Shirley was supposed to be his bride, someone who had done a hoedown showdown to assert her claim.

He rested his head on her chest, so she stroked his now very tousled red hair and said, "I love you, Richie." She said it loud enough for anyone tuning in to hear, but she didn't say it as theatrically as her other lines.

He sighed contentedly and fell asleep at her breast, although the sun was just beginning to set behind the gingham curtains.


	4. The Morning After

Richie thought he recognized this dream. He was moving inside his bride on their wedding night. She was soft and warm and beautiful, sweet but a little sassy. It was their first time, because they had both saved themselves, but it had none of the messiness and awkwardness of real life.

This time her bridal veil covered her face, except for her pointed chin. He lifted the veil, expecting to see Lori Beth beaming up at him, but it was Shirley Feeney who looked at him apologetically.

He woke suddenly and felt Shirley tying his hands together. He remembered that she was his ball and chain, at least until they could get an annulment.

She looked at him apologetically, after she finished the last knot. "I have to, you know, because of the farmer."

He nodded and then blushed as he realized something. He hadn't gotten to the wet part of his wet dream and he was still hard. He started mumbling about baseball.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing. Just give me a minute. The Milwaukee Braves beat the New York Yankees in the 1957 World Series four to three, although they lost the rematch the next year, three to four." He noticed that she had pulled her blouse back up and presumably was wearing her bra. That should've made her less distracting, but he remembered her letting him play with her firm but soft chest. "Um, in the '57 Series, Hank Aaron had eleven hits, including a triple, three home runs and seven RBI."

"Oh, of course!" she gasped. Then she put her hands under the covers and felt her way down his white checked shirt.

"Shirley?" he said in disbelief. Maybe he was dreaming again.

"I know what we said about below the waist," she whispered, "but it's my fault you can't touch yourself this morning."

"Well, actually it's Vernon Bumpergaard's fault."

She chuckled and then shook her head, probably realizing it wasn't that funny that he and Fonzie could've been shot the day before. Then she asked, "What happened to my veil?"

He blushed again. "Oh, you don't want that." He'd planned last night, as he spilled his seed into it, pretending it was her, to take it to the laundromat, along with his shirt, which she'd spilled fish eggs on.

"I need it to clean up, after." She was using her practical, candy-striper voice, as if she was offering an impersonal service, like the ice pack for his posterior yesterday.

"Oh, um, it's probably somewhere in the bedding." He remembered passing out on her bosom after coming, thinking how nice that was. He probably let go of the handkerchief in his sleep.

She felt around and then cried, "Aha!"

"Found it?" he asked, trying to sound casual, like this was a perfectly ordinary morning after.

For answer, she slipped into Laverne's New York accent and asked, "Is that for showin' or for blowin'?" 

They both laughed and he couldn't help thinking that he wouldn't have guessed four long years ago that they would end up here.

Then she put her head on his shoulder, which always made him feel strong yet tender and sometimes aroused. She murmured, "I'll try to be quick." Then one of her hands felt below his waist. His erection greeted her happily. "So hard, Richie," she whispered, as she lightly stroked him.

"I was dreaming," he whispered back and then coughed. "Of Lori Beth."

She paused and then went back to stroking him. "You're a good boyfriend, Richie," she said sincerely.

He felt like a terrible boyfriend, and a rotten husband. Especially since he didn't stop her when she wrapped both hands around his hard-on, one with the veil at the ready. Instead he wished his hands were free, to at least stroke her hair.

At 20, he understood girls, women, better than when he was a teenager, but there were still things he didn't get. And one of these was how desire worked for nice girls. He knew from talking to Fonzie and from necking with Lori Beth that even nice girls got excited, but they were good at setting limits, for guys and for themselves. He didn't know how they handled their excitement. He couldn't imagine Shirley touching herself between the legs, but maybe she'd play with those pretty pink nipples.

He groaned at the thought, feeling like he was betraying both Lori Beth and Shirley.

She misunderstood his groan and murmured, "That's right, just think about how good this feels."

He closed his eyes and tried to block out everything but her hands, yet memories of the night before and of his dream snuck through. He let himself cry her name when he came into the veil again, knowing that the Bumpergaard sisters were probably still eavesdropping.

Afterwards, she kissed his cheek, and then sat up. She looked around the room and then sighed and tucked the soiled handkerchief into her bra.

He was simultaneously disgusted and aroused, but he joked, "Souvenir?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, I'm going to press it into the album next to the orange slice from Laverne's debutante ball."

He had no idea what she was talking about, but before he could ask, someone knocked. He and Shirley looked at each other, panicking a little. Was it Mr. Bumpergaard or just one of his daughters?

"Yo, Shirl, Red, I know you're awake 'cause I heard voices. Are you decent?" Laverne chuckled like she couldn't imagine them indecent.

"Just a minute," Shirley sort of sang, and then she quickly tucked Richie back into his boxers and fastened his jeans and belt. Then she got to her feet and shook her head as if to clear it and to smooth out the dark bob that Richie and sleep had disheveled. She went to the door and opened it to her roommate. "What's going on? Where are the sisters?"

Laverne laughed again. "The Bumpercars? I heard them say the city slickers probably won't wake up for hours and the cows can't wait."

"Cunningham, you ready to make a break for it?" Richie couldn't see Fonzie but it sounded like his friend was out in the hallway.

"Yeah, hang on." Richie sat up and swung his feet out of bed. He remembered that his shoes were off and his hands were tied.

Shirley must've remembered, too, because she came over and put his shoes on and helped him to his feet. Then she guided him out to the hall.

Fonzie had his boots on and his hands tied. Richie wondered if Laverne had even bothered to untie her groom.

The girls could've untied them now. What difference would it make even if Mr. Bumpergaard caught them? As far as he knew, both men had become irrevocably married and out of reach of his daughters.

Still, the brides helped the bound grooms down the stairs and Richie felt like it was a strange reversal of the tradition of grooms carrying brides over the threshold. The four of them crept through the farmhouse as if dreading to be caught, although the worst that would happen would probably be they'd have to eat a Swedish breakfast. He tried not to think of his mom making pancakes, if the four of them could return safely to the cabin.

They made it outside, where they saw Vernon Bumpergaard slumped against the wall, snoring, his shotgun at his feet. Richie felt a strange stab of pity as well as relief.

They made their way to and through the fields, where the bull also slept. They moved as quietly as they could, just in case.

When they got to the fence at the border of the Bumpergaard property, Laverne asked, "You want a boost, Fonzie?"

"Nah, I got this." As easily as starting a jukebox, he broke his bonds.

Richie stared at him but he wasn't the only one. "You mean you could've broken free last night?" Laverne asked in amazement.

Fonzie chuckled and shrugged. "I didn't want to spoil your fun."

"Laverne, I'd like a word with you." Richie looked at Shirley, who had her arms crossed.

"Here?" Laverne asked, looking around the field.

"No, in private. Excuse us, Gentlemen." Richie would've thought Shirley was kidding but she uncrossed her arms and clambered over the fence, then headed down the path that he knew ran through the woods.

Laverne shook her head but, more athletically than her friend, climbed over the fence. "Give us a few minutes," she told Fonzie.

"You got it, Honey," he said and leaned across the fence to give her a big kiss.

Richie waited until Laverne caught up with Shirley before he said, "You called her Honey."

"Well, she is my wife."

The Fonz sounded completely serious. Richie stared at him and asked, "What's going on?"

"Well, first I'm going to untie you so we can climb over the fence and get off the Bumpergaard property."

Richie held out his hands as Fonzie came over. "What happened to the annulment?" he asked quietly, as the Fonz started to unfasten the knots the old-fashioned way, without snapping his fingers.

Instead of answering Richie's question, Fonzie asked, "Did Shirley retie this?"

"Yeah, this morning."

"Wow, when that girl ties the knot, she really ties the knot." But the Fonz unfastened Richie's bonds after another minute.

"Thanks, Fonz," Richie said, rubbing his wrists.

"Any time, Rich." The Fonz hopped the fence easily and then leaned against it from the other side.

Richie climbed over less gracefully, but he was grateful that it wasn't as high as the fence by the Bumpergaard farmyard. He remembered helping both girls over that the previous afternoon, and Laverne snapping, "Watch the hands, Cunningham," when he accidentally touched her bottom, even though she'd lain on his bottom a couple hours earlier.

"So how was your wedding night, Cunningham?" Fonzie now teased.

Richie blushed. He wasn't sure how much to kiss and tell, considering that Shirley had a reputation to protect and she had been doing him a favor, a series of favors. On the other hand, it wasn't like it had been a very private night, for any of them. "I was just about to ask you the same thing, Fonz."

Fonzie chuckled and then reached into his jeans pocket for his wallet. He took out a small index card and handed it to Richie.

Richie raised his eyebrows and read aloud, " 'Number One, good listener. Number Two, good sense of humor. Number three, no mustache. Number four, must be untried. Number five, a high school diploma or equivalent.' " He looked at his friend. "What is this?"

"You don't remember?"

Then suddenly Richie did. It was years ago and Fonzie wanted to marry a librarian named Maureen Johnson. He showed the guys his "perfect wife" card because he thought she met all the criteria, although it would turn out she was not as untried as Fonzie thought. "Um, Laverne is perfect?"

Fonzie took the card back and tucked it into his wallet again. "She's better than perfect."

"Better?"

"Yeah, she fits all that but better than I imagined. Number one, she listens good but she doesn't just listen, she answers like she's been paying attention, not just making those little listening noises like most people make."

"Uh huh. I mean please go on."

"Number two, she's got a great sense of humor. She loves to laugh and she's very funny herself."

"Yeah. I mean she is."

"Number three, she has a little body hair but she's Italian, so I expect that. She shaves her legs and her armpits and she doesn't have a mustache, so it's all good."

"Um, Fonzie, this is getting a little personal here."

"Then I guess you don't wanna hear about number four."

Blushing, Richie said, "Tell me about number four." He knew if he didn't hear straight from Fonzie, he would always wonder what exactly happened in the neighboring bedroom.

"Well, I won't go into detail, so as not to embarrass you, but she was a technical virgin. She was very curious and enthusiastic though, and she, well, she did a lot of the work because my hands were tied."

"Yeah, about that. Why didn't you free yourself last night?"

"Well, I figured it was the only way I could keep my hands off her and keep from consummating."

"Did it work?"

Fonz chuckled and looked uncharacteristically self-conscious. "Uh, not really."

"Did you even tell her about your plan?"

"Well, I was going to, but then she started blowing in my ear."

"Fonzie, you're officially married to Laverne DeFazio!"

"Yeah," Fonzie said, surprisingly dreamily.

"Well, at least she's a high school graduate."

"Look, Rich, I know this seems kind of sudden but I've always liked and in a way loved Laverne. And you know I've been with a lot of girls. A lot."

"Yeah, of course."

"And last night, she was the best."

"Wow, really?"

"Yeah. And imagine how good it'll be for us when I don't have my hands tied."

Richie could imagine it, and then he tried not to, because this was definitely straying into "too personal" territory. "But, Fonzie, a marriage can't just be based on," he whispered the next word although they were alone, "sex."

"I know. Laverne and I come from the same background, the same world. And she's a good cook and she's loyal, and she likes sports and rock & roll."

Fonzie made marriage sound so simple, so logical. Richie felt like there had to be more to it than that. He loved Lori Beth, but he wasn't ready to propose to her, and not just because they were still in college. Of course, the Fonz was older and more experienced, so it was different for him.

"What about you, Rich? You still planning on an annulment?"

Richie was annoyed that Fonzie was acting like annulment was Richie's plan, not his, and like of course the two virgins hadn't consummated. "I don't think we can now," he bluffed.

"Hey, I know Shirley really threw herself into the wedding vows, but she's mostly sensible and I'm sure she sees by now that she doesn't have to stay married to you when no one's pointing a gun."

Now Richie really felt insulted. He stopped leaning on the fence and waved his pointer finger in Fonzie's face. "Listen, Bucko, she could do a lot worse than me!"

"Whoa, Cunningham, who whizzed in your Wheaties? I just meant you two have only gone out a few times, and you're going steady with Lori Beth, so of course you won't stay married to Shirley."

Richie lowered his arm. "Well, yeah, sorry I flipped out, Fonz."

"We're cool. So, uh, when you say you don't think you can get it annulled, does that mean you went all the way?"

Richie hesitated. He could've lied, but that wouldn't have been fair to Shirley, who had been so great about everything. And if he couldn't be honest with his best friend, who could he be honest with? "We just made out." It felt like it was more than that, that it meant more, but he knew it didn't count for consummation.

"Yeah? I wondered. Laverne thought you were faking everything but the kissing, but I wasn't sure."

"No, um, Shirley's a really good actress."

"You're not too shabby yourself, Cunningham."

"Thanks, Fonz."

"So what are you going to tell Lori Beth?"

Richie sighed and leaned against the fence again. "I'm not sure. I mean, I think she'd forgive the marriage easier than the makeout."

"Yeah. Well, maybe she doesn't have to know about either."

"You want me to lie to my girlfriend?"

"Not lie, just not tell her everything."

"But how's she going to feel when she finds out I married another woman?"

"Who says she has to find out?"

"I don't understand."

"Think about it, Richie. The Bumpergaards aren't going to go running to Milwaukee to tell everyone about the wedding. And even after the preacher does the paperwork, it's not like there'll be an announcement in the newspaper or something. You just have to get it annulled before either you or Shirley marries someone else."

Richie couldn't believe it was that simple, but he couldn't immediately think of an objection. He did ask, "What about your marriage, Fonz?"

"We'll have a church wedding once we get her father's blessing."

Richie didn't say that Fonzie wasn't everyone's idea of a son-in-law. "So you're engaged?"

"Well, yeah, that's what we're telling her dad, and your folks."

"My folks?" Richie said nervously. He'd sort of hoped that they wouldn't have to know anything, since Fonzie had suggested Richie and Shirley quietly get an annulment.

"Yeah, Laverne and I agreed we'd go see them first before talking to her dad, since you live at home and your folks will be more worried about you staying out all night."

Richie thought it was more likely Laverne was in no hurry to hear her father yell, but he said, "And what reason are we giving everyone for staying out all night, since we're not mentioning being married at gunpoint and guarded by farmgirls?"

Fonzie clapped Richie on the shoulder and said, "I'll explain the plan while we catch up with the wives...."


	5. Wedding Announcement

Laverne soon caught up with her, but Shirley waited until they were out of their grooms' earshot before she said, "You left that poor man tied up all night?"

Laverne shrugged. "You know I was never very good at knots in Brownies. And anyway, it turns out that he could've broken free whenever he wanted to."

"But you didn't know that."

Instead of seeming annoyed with Fonzie for tricking her, or guilty for not making a serious attempt to free him, Laverne giggled and said, "I had such a good time, Shirl!"

"Spare me your smut, DeFazio."

"Hey, it's Mrs. Fonzarelli, if you don't mind."

Shirley looked at her and realized that Fonzie had had no plans for an annulment, unlike Richie. "Vernie," she said gently, "how far did you go with Fonzie last night?"

"I thought you didn't want to know."

"Not details, but this is important."

Laverne closed her eyes in bliss and whispered, "He let me have my way with him. All the way!"

"With his hands tied and a bum ankle?"

Laverne opened her eyes and said in her normal voice, "Well, that's why I was on top."

Shirley blushed at this information, especially knowing that Fonzie had gone along with it, maybe even arranged for it. It was like he had seduced Laverne into seducing him.

"I can't wait for our next wedding night!"

Shirley blinked. "Your next one?"

"Yeah, we're not going to tell anyone about that crazy wedding. Especially since you and Richie obviously don't want to be married to each other."

"Right," Shirley said quietly.

"But we want a real wedding, in the church, with all our friends and family there."

"That's lovely, Vernie." It was, but it made Shirley feel funny to have her own wedding, crazy or not, erased like that.

"You'll be my maid of honor of course."

They'd talked about that since they were little girls planning weddings for their dolls (Boo Boo Kitty had once been engaged to Laverne's Raggedy Ann), but it seemed strange to talk about this the morning after Shirley was a bride. "Thank you. When are you going to tell your father you're, um, engaged?"

"After we tell the Cunninghams."

"The Cunninghams?"

"Yeah, they're like family to the Fonz. Besides," Laverne grinned, "Richie's mom must be worried about him staying out all night."

Laverne was teasing, but Shirley could imagine the mother's worry, and the fact that Richie could've actually been shot made it less funny. "You think your father's not worried?"

Laverne sighed. "I'm sure he is, which is why we're not gonna mention the crazy farmer with the shotgun."

Shirley took "we" to mean all four of them, not just the Fonzarellis. "What exactly is our excuse for being out all night with the guys?"

"You and I went for a walk in the woods and we got lost. We ran into Fonzie and Richie, who were also lost. We were glad to see each other but none of us could figure our way out of the woods. It was starting to get dark when we found an old abandoned shack."

"And we all shacked up?"

"No, no, Richie was a perfect gentleman, and Fonzie never laid a finger on me."

Laverne snickered but Shirley rolled her eyes. "So how did you and Fonzie end up engaged?"

"We talked all night and realized we were in love." Laverne's voice got dreamy, and even though Shirley knew it was a lie, she was romantic enough to be touched by Laverne's story. It was clear that the Fonzarellis' wedding night wasn't just about voe-dee-oh-doe.

"And in the morning, we found our way out of the woods and back to Richie's family," Shirley said, thinking of fairy tales where children survived the dangers and magic of the forest, safe but forever changed.

"Exactamundo," said the Fonzess.

Shirley didn't know if any of their friends or family would buy it, but she couldn't come up with better lies just then. She was about to say something about Carmine, when she saw Richie and Fonzie coming down the path. She knew she and Laverne probably wouldn't get a chance to talk privately again until they were home in their apartment. With shock, she realized that, unless Mr. DeFazio forbade the engagement, Laverne would be moving out soon.

When the men caught up to where the girls had halted, Fonzie put his arm around Laverne's shoulder and said, "My ankle's bothering me again."

Laverne sang, offkey of course, the chorus of "Stand By Me." ("Lean on Me" would've fit even better, but it wouldn't be released for more than a decade.) The Fonz chuckled and kissed her cheek. Maybe he was her Mr. Right.

Richie and Shirley walked a little ahead of their friends, not touching and hardly talking. He did ask, "Did Laverne tell you about the plan? I mean about explaining their engagement."

By this point, she had the feeling that the Fonz had plans within plans, telling Laverne and Richie whatever suited him. She glanced back at the leather-jacketed figure leaning on and whispering with Laverne. Or maybe Fonzie was actually as spontaneous as Laverne, his plans changing at whim. Shirley hoped he was really going to commit to her dearest friend, for both their sakes.

She looked at Richie and said, "They fell in the woods. We were just innocent bystanders."

He chuckled nervously, maybe at the word "innocent."

She felt like they had done more than they should've but less than they could've. It was both too late and too soon for them to discuss it.

The Cunninghams' campsite wasn't far away. Shirley remembered helping the guys to it the day before.

They heard the voices before they saw the speakers.

"So you haven't heard anything," said a young woman. Shirley didn't need Richie's sharp intake of breath to guess who this was.

"No," said an older woman, who Shirley immediately recognized as Marion Cunningham. "And the sheriff says that he can't do anything until it's been 24 hours, since Richie is over eighteen. It won't take a bear 24 hours to eat my baby!"

"Marion," said a middle-aged man who had to be Howard Cunningham, "a bear did not eat our son. Lori Beth, I'm sorry you drove all the way up here. I'm sure there's some logical explanation for his disappearance."

"I hope so, but I knew I'd worry more if I waited in Milwaukee."

"He's probably with Fonzie," said a younger girl. "How much trouble could he get into?"

Shirley heard Richie snort beside her. She felt a little like Squiggy, about to make a perfectly timed entrance, although she supposed being aware of that made her unlike Squiggy.

Fonzie whispered, "OK, Kids, it's showtime."

She had more of a supporting role than a starring one, but Shirley hoped she'd be convincing. She thought of saying, "Break a leg," but then thought of Fonzie's ankle.

Fonzie was no longer leaning on Laverne, although they were standing close. Shirley thought of how Laverne had told her and Richie to hold hands and try to look engaged to convince the farmer. Laverne was like a director, especially when she took their pictures, although most directors were men of course. She now took a quick candid shot, before they could pose. The click of the camera was surprisingly loud at the edge of the woods, especially since the Cunninghams and Lori Beth had fallen silent.

Richie's 16-year-old sister shaded her eyes and said, "Is that...?"

"Joanie, go up to your room!" her father snapped.

"My room is in Milwaukee and this cabin is a one-story."

"Joanie, please go inside."

The teen obeyed her mother, but when Shirley got closer to the cabin, she could see Joanie peeking through the curtains.

Mrs. Cunningham ran from the porch and towards the two young men. "You boys must be starved!" She was apparently going to ignore the boys' companions.

Her husband, on the other hand, said, "It's Laverne and Shirley, isn't it?"

"Yes, Sir," Shirley answered and wondered if she should pull Lori Beth aside while Richie talked to his parents.

Then Richie started babbling like he had when he first showed up to tell the girls the trouble he and Fonzie were in with the Bumpergaards. Only this time it was a rambling version of the cover story that Laverne had told Shirley they were going with.

His father understandably asked, "Richie, are you drunk?"

Fonzie said, "He's a little light-headed from not eating."

"My poor boy! How do you want your eggs?"

"Hold on, Mrs. C. I've got a little announcement to make." Everyone looked at him nervously, including Laverne.

"Announcement?" repeated Mrs. Cunningham.

"Yeah, I've chosen Laverne DeFazio to be my wife."

Shirley noticed the careful phrasing, the way the verb tenses blurred past, present, and future, as well as the choice of the word "choice," as if it was the Fonz's decision to select his Fonzess. Shirley knew it wasn't that simple. When Richie had arrived at Roscoe's Wigwams, he had proposed to the first woman he saw, who happened to be Laverne. Then he switched over to Shirley, as if it didn't matter who pretended to be his fiancée.

But maybe Fonzie had decided the pairings that autumn night almost four years ago, when he told Richie, "This is Laverne DeFazio. She's mine. This is Shirley Feeney. She's yours, as you can see." He had said "as you can see" because Shirley had approved her fate in the double date and was already snuggling up to the clean-cut young man, putting her head on his shoulder. And yesterday Laverne had told the farmer, "I'm his," pointing at Fonzie, "and he's hers," pointing at Richie and Shirley. Not that that meant that they were paired for life, except that both Fonzie and Laverne had chosen what they were seemingly forced into.

Shirley had time to think about this because Richie's parents and girlfriend had been stunned into silence. Then his sister gasped out the window she'd opened, "Wow, the Fonz is getting married!"

"Joanie, shut the window!" her father snapped.

She slammed it shut so hard that Shirley expected it to shatter.

"You're marrying Laverne?" Mrs. Cunningham said faintly, but whether it was that he was getting married at all, or specifically to Laverne, which was more of a shock, Shirley couldn't tell.

"He rescued me," Laverne said, "sort of a Tarzan and Jane thing. Only in the woods instead of the jungle."

"Does that make Richie Cheetah?" Lori Beth said dryly.

"Richie was a perfect gentleman!" Shirley blurted out.

"Of course he was," his mother said, as if she couldn't imagine otherwise. "Now, why don't all you girls stay for breakfast and we can talk more about this?"

"Actually, Mrs. C, I've got to go talk to Laverne's father and ask for her hand."

"And, uh, I should go with him as moral support," Richie said.

"Richie?" Lori Beth said, coming closer.

"Lori Beth, I swear nothing happened in that house, I mean that shack, I mean—"

She nodded and hugged him. "I know, I trust you."

He hugged back but, over Lori Beth's shoulder, Shirley could see his guilty expression.

His mother didn't seem to notice, and she hugged him after Lori Beth let go. "I'm so glad you boys are safe." Then she hugged both Fonzie and Laverne, congratulating them. She didn't hug Shirley but gave her a funny look, as if sensing that something had happened to her son last night but not wanting to believe it.

"Catch you later," Fonzie said.

"If you're not back in 24 hours, we'll call the sheriff," Mr. Cunningham joked, at least Shirley assumed he was joking.

The Fonz chuckled in genuine amusement but Richie laughed nervously.

Laverne cracked, "Maybe we'll just elope," and Shirley knew that that wasn't really a joke. It would be easier to ask Mr. DeFazio for forgiveness than permission.


	6. Blessings

As they made their way through a different path in the woods, along Pinewood Lake, Fonzie and Laverne went first, holding hands. Richie and Shirley trailed behind on the trail, definitely not touching.

"Man, I'm such a liar!" Richie muttered.

Shirley must've heard him, since she said, "Richie, we had to lie to Lori Beth, to protect her."

He felt guilty about that part of course, but he hadn't been thinking of that. "No, well," he whispered, "I lied to you."

She reached over and patted his arm. He tried not to flinch. "Oh, I knew that."

"You did?"

"Of course. When you said you loved me, I knew you were just saying it to convince the farmgirls. That's why I said it back to you."

"Oh." He hadn't been thinking about that either. He remembered being lost in the fantasy of making love to her, and he had been grateful to her for all she'd done. He hadn't let himself go verbally as much the next morning, even when she gave him a handjob.

When he was talking about lying to her, he meant lying about his wet dream. He realized now was not the time to explain, if there ever would be such a time.

"Not that I'm not fond of you of course."

"I like you, too." He coughed and knew he should change the subject. "How do you think Laverne's father is going to react to their engagement?"

Shirley sighed. "Even if he accepts it, he's going to start out yelling."

Richie nodded. For once, he didn't envy the Fonz.

They didn't talk any further until they got to the right campsite at Roscoe's Wigwams. Then Fonzie turned around and said, "I think Laverne and I should go first."

That made sense in a way, since there was the Carmine Ragusa factor. Richie liked the Big Ragoo and was still grateful for the time that he helped come to Joanie's rescue when she got mixed up with a gang. But Carmine was the former Golden Gloves champion of Milwaukee. He hadn't seemed jealous of Richie when he emceed the dance contest three years ago, but there was a big difference between a dance where Richie actually danced with Laverne and a night in a bedroom with Shirley. Not that Carmine would find out about the bedroom, or the wedding ceremony, but it was going to be tough not acting guilty around him.

So dealing with Mr. DeFazio first seemed like a good idea. However, this meant that Richie wouldn't be able to give Fonzie any moral support until he could make an appearance. He supposed he would listen and then rush into the clearing if the Fonzarellis needed a distraction.

Shirley gave Laverne a quick hug. "Good luck, Vernie! Holler if you need us."

Richie heard Laverne mutter, "My pop will do the hollering." Yet she gave Fonzie a look of mingled courage and infatuation, as if she'd follow him into battle.

Fonzie gave her hand a squeeze and then let go to follow her into the clearing.

"Young Lady, where have you been?"

"We was worried sickly! Oh, hi, Fonzie."

Even before Richie peeked through the bushes, he knew this wasn't Laverne's father and landlady, who Fonzie had told him were dating. Richie recognized the nasal voices of Laverne and Shirley's weird neighbors.

"So you was out galliventilating all hours with this hooligram! No offense intruded, Fonzie."

"None taken," one leather-jacketed man said to the other.

"Now you'll have to marry her," the man in the red "Lone Wolf" jacket tried to say sternly, although he looked like he was about to giggle.

"He's planning to," Laverne said.

"Gee, I was just kidding, Laverne," Lenny said.

"So's she, ain't ya, Laberne?" Squiggy said nervously.

"I asked her to be my wife last night," Fonzie said, and Richie noticed the ambiguous phrasing.

Lenny had very readable expressions and he now looked like he was trying to put on a brave face. "Poor Leonard," Shirley murmured as Lenny went over to shake Fonzie's hand.

"I guess the best man won. Be good to her, Fonzarelli."

"I'll try, Kosnowski."

Lenny nodded, let go, let out a sob, and then ran into the woods in the opposite direction from where Laverne and Fonzie had emerged.

"Lenny!" Laverne called helplessly after him.

"Well, I hope you're happy, you backstabbing she-demon! You've broken my Lenny's heart, again!" Squiggy snarled, pointing his finger at Laverne as if he were a stern Puritan judge at a witch hunt.

"Fonzie, I swear, there's nothing going on with me and Lenny."

"Nothing?! I don't call it nothing when a man twice offers you his hand in marriage, Laberne! Not to mention his teeth!"

"Teeth?" Richie mouthed.

Shirley gestured that the two of them should make their entrance now, and he assumed it would at least distract Squiggy from his fury. So Richie followed Shirley into the clearing.

Squiggy's "Hello, Shirl" was surprisingly calm. "So you were out with the Cunningham kid, huh?"

"Richie was a perfect gentleman!" Shirley blurted out.

Squiggy shrugged, spread his hands, and scrunched up his face, as he said, "Of course he was. Do you think I'm stupid?"

"Well, I'm not stupid!" Carmine Ragusa strode into the clearing from the direction that Lenny had disappeared to. "Is this why Lenny is crying? Shirl, how could you?"

"Nothin's goin' on with Shirley and Lenny either," Laverne told Fonzie.

"What about Shirley and Richie?" Carmine demanded.

"All they did was kiss," Laverne informed Carmine.

"And just how do you know that?"

"I was in the next room."

Carmine crossed his muscular arms over his muscular chest. "The next room of what?"

"The house, well, it was more of a shack."

"The four of you spent the night in a shack?" Carmine sounded even more outraged now.

"Nothing happened!" Shirley insisted, sounding so sincere that Richie would've been convinced if he hadn't known better.

"Aha! Then why is Fonzie making an honest woman out of Laberne?"

Carmine suddenly grinned. "You guys are getting married?"

Fonzie shrugged. "My hands were tied. What are you gonna do?"

Carmine chuckled. "You two crazy kids! I'm so happy for you! And, Laverne, your dad's gonna be thrilled that you're marrying an Italian."

"Well, since I couldn't have you," Laverne joked.

But this apparently was not the right thing to say, since it reminded Carmine of whatever commitment he had made with Shirley. "Wait a minute, you two are getting married, but what about these two?"

"Well, I have a steady girlfriend," Richie said, feeling like he should say something.

"Then what were you doing kissing my girl?"

"Shirley was kissing the Cunningham kid? Is that why Lenny's crying?"

"No, Frank, Lenny has a crush on Laverne."

Both middle-aged people, who had entered the clearing from the same direction as Carmine, exclaimed, "Laverne! Shirley!"

The woman, Edna Babish Richie guessed, came over and hugged Shirley, asking, "Are you girls all right? We were so worried!"

"We're fine, Mrs. Babish."

Laverne's father had gone over to her but he didn't hug her. "So you were out all night on a double date with these two? You couldn't call?"

Laverne looked around in bafflement. "Pop, we're in the middle of the woods."

"So you call Roscoe's office and then he comes and tells me and I can try to get some sleep in my wigwam, with Carmine singing in his sleep."

"I do not sing in my sleep. I hum."

"You do? That's so cute!" Shirley said.

"You're not off the hook, Lady."

"So she kissed the Cunningham kid. Don't be so old-fashioned, Carmine."

Everyone stared at Mr. DeFazio, and Mrs. Babish asked, "Frank, are you feeling all right?"

"Edna, it's the Sixties. People kiss. You kiss, I kiss, they kiss." He looked at his daughter. "It was just kissing, right?"

Before Laverne could answer, Fonzie said, "Mr. DeFazio, I appreciate your concern. And I want you to know that I want Laverne to be my wife."

"Hey, I'm not that strict! You can kiss her if you want."

"Pop, we want your blessing."

"Wait, you're serious?"

"Yes, Poppy." She looked scared and proud at the same time.

He didn't immediately say anything and even Richie, who didn't know the man, braced himself for yelling, probably partly in Italian. Squiggy gestured that he was going to check on Lenny and he tiptoed out of the clearing.

Then Mr. DeFazio lunged at Fonzie, making Edna cry, "Frank, no!"

But he wrapped the Fonz in a bear hug and yelled, "I finally have a son!"

Laverne shot Shirley a look like she was thinking _That was not the reaction I was expecting._

Then Mr. DeFazio let go of Fonzie and said, "And he's Italian! Muffin, I love you!" He gave Laverne a big hug and kiss on the cheek.

"You're welcome?"

Richie looked at Shirley and quietly said, "I should probably get back to my folks. Um, and Lori Beth."

She whispered, "I could still talk to her if you want."

"No, that's OK. I think it's more important that you talk to Carmine." They both glanced over at the Big Ragoo, who was glaring at them, probably for speaking too quietly for him to hear.

"Actually, I think it's more urgent that I speak to poor Lenny."

Richie nodded. "Well, then I guess I'll be heading out." He really wanted to kiss her goodbye but that of course was impossible. "Um, thanks. For everything."

"Any time, Richard." She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

Mrs. Babish was still standing close enough to hear and see but she was, or at least pretending she was, looking over at her boyfriend, his daughter, and the prospective son-in-law. Richie glanced in that direction, too, and he could see and hear Mr. DeFazio, half in Italian and half in English, planning a big June wedding, as Laverne argued for something "small and simple and soon." The Fonz looked on with a smile, as if he hadn't a care in the world. So Richie left without saying goodbye to anyone else. He and Fonzie could talk about their wedding night later.


	7. Newlyweds

Shirley hung up the phone and shook her head. Not that she wasn't happy for Laverne, and Fonzie, but it just seemed so soon. It was only a couple of months since their first wedding night, a month and a half since the second. But Laverne was thrilled to be pregnant with Fonzie's baby, although she'd sworn Shirley to secrecy for now.

"Don't even tell Terry."

Shirley wasn't as close to her new roommate as she was to her old. She'd thought about moving to California to be near her mother, but her friends and everything familiar were here. So she stayed in the apartment and invited Terry Buttafucco to move in. She liked Terry, but it wasn't the same.

She wanted to ask if Richie knew, but she felt funny bringing him up, especially to Laverne, who liked to tease her about the shared wedding night when no one else could hear. Shirley hadn't seen him since the Fonzarellis' second wedding. It was unavoidable then, because not only was she maid of honor but Richie was best man. He looked dapper in his tuxedo, the first time she'd really seen him as grown-up in that way, although he'd been very much a man on their wedding night.

She blushed at the thought, but at least it was no longer disloyal to Carmine. He had been her date to the wedding, as Lori Beth had been Richie's. Laverne had convinced Carmine that "Red was no threat," and Carmine had apologized for overreacting.

Shirley broke up with Carmine a week after Mrs. Babish caught the bouquet. She was cleaning the kitchen in preparation for her new roommate and she found a crumpled note behind the stove. It turned out to be a three-year-old love note from Carmine to Laverne. As Laverne explained it, she and Carmine became infatuated with each other while Shirley was covering for Terry at Meckler's Department Store (this was before Terry got her job at the loading docks) and Shirley had encouraged Carmine and Laverne to spend more time together. The two of them kissed but didn't take it any further, because they realized they were better off as friends. Shirley was of course hurt by the cheating and the secrecy, but she looked at it differently because of her wedding night. She forgave them but she realized she could no longer date Carmine, especially since he claimed to not remember the kissing. Shirley felt like if you kissed someone you loved as a friend, you should remember it.

She now went and got the wedding album. This was not the official wedding album, which was sitting on a shelf in the apartment above the Cunninghams' garage. This was the album that Shirley, who loved to make photo albums, put together after Laverne asked her to have the Knapp Street Pharmacy develop the roll of film Laverne took their weekend in the country. Shirley kept meaning to turn the album over to Laverne, but for now she kept it in her underwear drawer, under the Hubba Hubba Heiney. Terry was out, bowling, and Shirley had the place to herself a couple hours. Shirley felt ready to look back on that crazy weekend.

There were of course no pictures of Shirley and Richie in the second guest bedroom. There was a shot of Fonzie lying on the bed in the other guest bedroom, his hands tied and a lazy smile on his face. He was still wearing his shirt and leather jacket, but of course Laverne wouldn't have been able to remove them without removing the rope. The photo didn't reveal whether or not he was dressed below the waist, but it was enough for the middle-aged clerk at the pharmacy to leer at Shirley, and ask, "Are you looking for another model, Honey?"

The other photos were more innocent. Shirley's favorite was actually the one of Richie with the dead fish on his forehead, grinning even though his best friend's life was at stake. He looked silly and cute, despite his worries. Somehow the picture summed up Richie, his loyalty and his willingness to oblige.

She heard a knock at the door and stuffed the album under a couch cushion. "Who is it?"

"Richie Cunningham."

She hadn't spoken to him since the second wedding and she didn't know why he was coming by. But she went to the door eagerly, if nervously. She wished she was dressed up, or at least wearing makeup, but this was supposed to be a quiet evening in, although Terry had asked her to join them at the Pizza Bowl. "No, you go ahead," Shirley had said, "have fun with the boys." And Lenny and Squiggy had told Terry to hurry up, so the three of them headed out and left Shirley in peace.

She opened the door and said, "Hello, Richard," wanting to keep this a bit formal, at least at first.

"Hi, Shirley. I hope it's all right I didn't call first."

"Of course. Come on in." She went back to the couch and he followed, sitting not very close. "So what brings you by?"

"I wanted to update you on the annulment."

She was surprised. She hadn't pursued the annulment herself, because she knew she wouldn't want to get married again for awhile, especially after she broke up with Carmine. She wondered if things had gotten more serious with Lori Beth, or maybe Richie just wanted to be officially single again.

He paused as if waiting for her to say something and then he said, "It turns out there's nothing to annul."

She blinked. "But the preacher said he was marrying us in the eyes of God and Wisconsin."

"Yeah, but he never did the paperwork."

"Oh. But how do you know?"

"I contacted the Department of Records and our marriage isn't on file."

"Oh. What about Laverne and Fonzie's marriage?"

"I didn't ask, although I guess it would've come up when they had their second wedding. Anyway, I found out the name and address of the preacher and wrote to him about it."

She was impressed by his research, but she remembered that he was a Journalism major. "Did he reply? What did he say?"

"I've got his letter with me if you want to read it, but basically he says that he was just humoring Vernon Bumpergaard and he didn't think a decision as serious as marriage is something someone should be forced into."

"That's wonderful, but why didn't he say something at the time?"

"He writes, 'It's foolish to argue with a man holding a shotgun, even if it's not pointed at you.' "

She nodded. "Wise words."

"Yeah. So I was wondering, since we're not married, would you like to go out sometime?"

"What about Lori Beth?"

"We broke up."

"Oh, Richie, I'm so sorry! Not because of me, I hope."

"Well, yeah, but it's all right."

"Did she find about our wedding night?"

"Sort of. I didn't tell her about the wedding or the farmhouse, but I told her we shared a bed and fooled around."

"Poor Lori Beth!"

"I didn't tell her, um, about below the waist, just above."

"Still, to break up over such a small thing." He glanced down at her chest and she blushed. "I didn't mean, I know I'm not Marilyn Monroe, but...."

He looked into her eyes and said, "It's beautiful. You're beautiful."

"Oh, pshaw! I'm not beautiful. Pretty and cute, sure."

"I don't just mean your looks, although you are very pretty. You're a really good person."

"Then why do I feel so rotten about Lori Beth?"

"The same reason I feel so rotten about Carmine. Um, Fonzie told me you two broke up."

"Yes, but not because of you."

"Oh."

"You sound disappointed."

"No, I just feel sort of stupid now. I should probably go."

She scooted closer. "Richie, wait. I do feel guilty about Carmine and Lori Beth, that we did cheat on them. I mean more than was necessary for the situation. And I'd never gone that far with anyone, especially on a fourth date."

He chuckled and asked, "Doesn't the next morning count as our fifth date?"

"No, because we didn't go home. And I think of it as a continuation of our wedding night, even though it was light out."

He nodded. "That makes sense. So are you saying you do or don't want a fifth date?"

"I'm saying that even though we're nice people, we hurt two other nice people, but I don't think we would've done that if there wasn't a real connection between us."

"Yeah, me, too. And I do feel guilty but, well, I'd rather feel guilty and have a chance to find out what our potential is as a couple than never explore it."

"So are you asking me to go steady? I'm definitely not ready to marry you again."

"I was just hoping we could have a normal date for once."

They both laughed and she said, "I'd like that."

"So is this our fifth date or should we schedule one?"

She snuggled up to him and put her head on his shoulder. "I wanted to stay in tonight."

"Uh, yeah, we could watch television or something."

"Or something."

"What'd you have in mind?"

She was tempted to say, "Anything but murder, Mister," but she didn't feel like acting seductive, when they had already fooled around. "Richie, whatever happens with us, I mean going forward, I want to take it slow, physically and emotionally."

"Yeah, I'm in no rush."

"Kissing's all right of course."

He did a very bad Frank DeFazio impression, "It's the Sixties. Everybody kisses!"

She laughed and kissed him.

They were still kissing an hour later when he said, "You know, kissing spreads a lot of germs."

"I can think of worse ways to get sick."

"Hello," Squiggy said in the open doorway, a moment before three bowling balls hit the floor in surprise.

****

One sunny summer morning, _Milwaukee Journal's_ newest cub reporter woke up in a sleeping bag on the dirt floor of a wigwam, yawned, smiled, and quietly sang, "I found my thrill, on Blueberry Hill!"

The woman lying next to him giggled and sang back, " 'Aba, daba, daba, daba, daba, daba, dab,' said the chimpie to the monk."

They kissed and then she sighed and put her head on his shoulder. He stroked her dark bob with red highlights and said, "Good morning, Mrs. Cunningham."

"Good morning, Mr. Cunningham," she said, stroking his bare chest.

"Last night was amazing!"

"Mm hm. Aren't you glad we waited?"

"Well...."

"Richie?"

"Do you want me to be honest?"

"You know we swore to always be honest with each other. Ever since you admitted that that dream was about me."

He didn't have to ask which dream she meant. He'd confessed about that on their tenth date. "Well, obviously I've wanted to do all that with you for a long while. I am glad that we did stuff along the way. I mean, it got frustrating sometimes, but it made last night less awkward, because we were already familiar with each other's bodies."

He could feel the heat of her blush against his shoulder and her nipples stiffening against his side. "It was the perfect wedding night."

"You don't mind that we aren't someplace fancier, like the Hotel Pfister?"

"No, you're right that it's better that we save up for a nicer apartment."

"Not that I mind the basement. I mean, you have some interesting neighbors."

"Yes, interesting is one word for them."

"And I just couldn't have you move into my childhood bedroom."

"Well, you do keep it tidy."

"Yeah, but we'd never get any privacy with my folks and Joanie around."

"We'll see how you feel after you've lived a few floors below Lenny and Squiggy for awhile."

She didn't mention Carmine, who had moved to New York to pursue a career in the theater. (Terry Buttafucco had moved into his place.) Richie said, "Besides, it works out better for Fonzie, Laverne, and the baby to have my room and Joanie's."

"I can't believe your father let Joanie move into the garage apartment."

"Well, he's forbidden Chachi to ever go up there." Richie would miss playing protective big brother, but he had his own life now and it wasn't like he and Shirley wouldn't visit often. His parents had been surprised when he starting bringing Shirley over for dinner, since she was a bottle-capper who had never gone past high school, but they'd grown to love her, and Laverne. And they were completely won over by both girls when Laverne wanted to name her daughter "Shirley Marion Fonzarelli," and Shirley Feeney had insisted that the first and middle names be reversed.

"Your father doesn't own a shotgun, does he?"

He laughed and said, "Happy anniversary, Sweet Cheeks."

She blew in his ear and whispered, "Let's celebrate some more, Big Red."


End file.
